


So if you can't face forever then tell me lies

by finnjonesbaratheon



Category: All American (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnjonesbaratheon/pseuds/finnjonesbaratheon
Summary: I wrote my own version of events of the car scene because why not.





	So if you can't face forever then tell me lies

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit rusty to the whole fanfiction thing, so if y'all could give me a few pointers that would be amazing.

Jordan’s slow feet sauntered their way over to Asher’s car. Since he’d told Asher that he was done trying to get rid of Spencer—all of their previous attempts only seemed to exacerbate their current dilemma—Asher had been trying to get him back on, what he deemed, “the winning team”. Jordan understood where his friend was coming from. It had hurt like hell after their last game to stand there and listen to his father talk to Spencer like he was his son while Jordan stood less than twenty feet away busting his ass trying to make his dad proud. It had hurt like hell and stung like a bitch, and Jordan had done something incredibly stupid in the aftermath when his emotions were at their most raw and he couldn't see sense.

But he had learned from it. At least, he’d like to believe that he had learned from it.

And yet, here he was meeting with Asher, no doubt about to listen to yet another scheme that would end up backfiring on both of them and would probably secure Spencer class valedictorian or some shit with the way their luck was currently running.

“I’m here,” Jordan announced when he seated himself in Asher’s passenger seat, sounding bored as ever. He and Asher’s friendship, by this point, guaranteed that both boys were obligated to hear out every idea the other had, terrible or otherwise, but that didn't mean they had to like it. “What’s this about?”

Asher allowed a beat of silence to sit between them before he said, “I feel like Layla’s been pulling away from me ever since Spencer got here.” His eyes met Jordan’s as he took in a breath.

“That’s… it?” Jordan’s words had been slow, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion. “You know you could've texted me this, right? You didn't have to make me walk all the way out here.”

“It’s not just that, J.” Asher’s voice got softer as he shifted his body so that he was facing Jordan a lot more. His eyes steadily rested on his best friend’s, but his hands betrayed whatever confidence he was trying to fake in that moment by fidgeting about. “What if the reason why she’s pulling away is because she knows, ya know? About us.”

Jordan closed his eyes and sighed. Asher didn't need to go any further in explanation.

“Asher, dude,” Jordan’s voice was lowered now, a whisper. It was such a contrast to the loudness of the bright day that boomed outside the confines of Asher’s car. He opened his eyes and looked at his friend. “We got drunk and we made some mistakes with each other. Didn’t mean it meant anything. It’s nothing to freak out about, especially if you really love Layla.”

Jordan, of course, was lying.

Both to Asher and to himself. Occasionally—during nights when porn wasn't enough to get him off—his mind would wander to memories of the night when he and Asher had gotten wasted out of both of their fucking minds and had gotten a little too handsy with one another. It had started off with them pretending to fight one another; just as quickly as the alcohol had gotten to their heads, sticking to their breaths like sweat on a hot summer’s night, they’d both found themselves on Asher’s bed. Lips had been pressed against lips, hands had gripped hair and skin and anything either of them were able to get their hands on, breathy moans escaped both—with Asher’s dad out of town that weekend, they allowed themselves to be as loud as they wanted to be. The ghosts of Jordan’s own breathless moans could be heard playing on loop in the boy’s mind. Moans of ‘faster, Asher, holy shit’ and ‘that feels so fucking good’. Jordan hadn’t known what pleasure really felt like until that night, and he hadn’t known anything that even came close to what he felt that night since.

But he and Asher were friends and Asher was dating Layla and he refused to be that person who ruined relationships and held broken futures up like a trophy he'd won.

When the morning came, they’d both pretended nothing had happened and went back to acting like their old selves. Although, there had always been a part of Jordan that asked himself—toiled with itself in hopeless wonder—if Asher actually felt anything that night, or if it had all just been drunk sex for him. Jordan didn't have the heart to ask out loud, however; and though he tried to convince himself that it was all because he didn't want to even consider ruining Layla’s and Asher’s relationship, the voice that told him that he was just afraid that Asher would give him an answer that would break his fucking heart and rip out his soul stayed loud no matter how many times Jordan tried to suffocate it.

“I do love her, man,” Asher spoke up, breaking into Jordan’s thoughts. “I know that I have a really shitty way of showing it, but fuck, Jordan. I love her so much. She’s not just some sort of prize for me.”

Jordan nodded in understanding. He pointedly ignored the way his soul felt like it was being ripped apart at the seams by Asher’s words.

“Okay then, dude. So fight for her. Don’t let someone like Spencer come in and ruin your relationship. Show her what she means to you.” Jordan forced himself to put on a supportive smile. Asher’s own smile seemed to take up his entire face.

“You’re absolutely right, bro. I need to show her that I’m the only man she needs.” Ash nodded, seemingly satisfied with his talk with his best friend. Jordan quickly nodded again, grateful to finally be finished with this conversation. He needed to get the fuck outta this fucking car. Asher’s car suddenly felt way too small for the both of them. The tightness in his chest that had reared its ugly head when his dad had praised Spencer on the field during their game came back with a vengeance, and the last thing Jordan wanted was to be around Asher right now.

“Good talk, buddy,” Jordan said before rushing to get out of the car and slamming the door in his wake. He refused to look back at Ash. For his own sake, he needed to move on and do the exact same thing Asher had managed to perfect: pretend that nothing had happened.


End file.
